


All the          Hidden Love       Beneath

by squid17



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-12 20:37:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13555128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squid17/pseuds/squid17
Summary: Mermen AU where Shane and Ryan secretly pine over eachother, oblivious to the other’s feelings.





	1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE: Shane

“Aha! Shane, I got you and your Shaniacs this time. This EVP is clearly saying ‘get out now.’”

“Don’t be stupid Ryan, it’s just the wind.”

“There is no wind! We’re underwater!” For emphasis, Ryan flaps his scaly green tail a couple times, creating a small whirlpool around the foot of the desk. “Have you forgotten that we’re mermen or have you been spending too much time on the shore?”

“Okay, okay, if it wasn’t the wind it was the currents. Those make weird noises all the time. And if not that it was a rock falling or the cave settling or even you moving. I would believe a million other things before I’d believe it was a ghost.”

“You are insufferable. You know that right?”

“I know that ghosts aren’t real,” Shane says in a taunting voice.

“It’s a wonder that you haven’t gotten killed on one of our trips yet. You’re always such an asshole to the spirits there.”

“I could only be an asshole to the spirits if they existed. All I’m trying to do is have a good time. Maybe I’ll get killed by some ghost sometime along the way,” Shane says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Well hey, if you do get killed by a ghost make sure the cameras are on. I could definitely sell it and get super rich.”

“Monetizing my death? Fuck you Ryan, you’re just as bad as the rest of those capitalist pigs.”

“Oh, you wish you could fuck me.”

Shane knows Ryan is teasing, but something about his tone makes his breath hitch, stopping him from replying quickly. He hates when Ryan does things like this to him, rendering him speechless with little remarks here and there. He’s usually quick to snap back at people, but sometimes it’s different for Ryan. He has no idea why. What’s so special about Ryan? It can’t be the way the light catches his hair and makes it sparkle, or the sharp glint of his eyes in the studio lights. There’s no way it can be his playful, carefree smile, showing up when Shane says or does something that makes him happy. It absolutely can’t be his corded shoulders or his slender hips or his short sparkly green tail or the soft curvature of his face or his inviting laugh....

“What’s wrong Shane? Catfish got your tongue?” Ryan’s playful jab brings Shane back down to earth, shaking him out of his Ryan-induced trance.

“Oh hah, sorry. I was just holding in a sneeze.” Holding in a sneeze? Shane thinks. Come on, really Shane? Pull yourself together man.

And pull himself together he does. They finish filming the rest of the postmortem without incident. Banter like that is a common occurrence when they’re together, whether the camera is on or off. Shane enjoys it, probably more than he should. It’s late, so he packs up his bag and leaves the studio. As he swims towards the exit, he stops when he hears Ryan calling out to him.

“Hey Shane, you forgot your keys.”

“Oh shit, thanks,” he says as he swims back to grab them. When Ryan’s hand touches Shane’s, he feels a sharp jolt of electricity like the sting of an electric eel. Ryan’s hand lingers for a moment longer than necessary before he pulls away. Shane doesn’t think anything of it.

“Night Shane. See ya tomorrow.”

“G’night Ry.” Ry? Shane thinks to himself. When have you ever called him Ry? That’s kinda weird.

Keys now in hand, Shane swims out and away from the BuzzReef headquarters. His head is fuzzy and full of confusing thoughts, so he decides to go for a quick swim to clear it out. There’s one spot he always goes to think, and that’s the reefs up by the shore. It’s fairly hidden and not well known because it’s in a relatively secluded area.

The bright pinkish orange hues of the tall, hard corals dance with the playful blues, greens and purples of the sea grass and anemone for as far as Shane can see. Fish dart in and out of crevices in the rocks while crabs and mollusks crawl across the rock surfaces and sandy ocean floor.

Shane swims by it all, taking it in, careful not to bump into anything. His head breaches the surface and he rests himself on a crab-free rock. Looking out to sea, he sees ships going steadily by, white sails blazing under a canopy of stars. He lies down on the rock, stretching his abnormally long tail out completely.

The stars parade across his field of vision, showing off and flashing brightly in sharp contrast to the pitch black night sky. Connecting the dots he sees the constellations: the Big Dipper, Orion, Cassiopeia, Pegasus and... Ryan?

Rubbing his eyes and opening them, he sees that his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him and that Ryan’s face is indeed smiling down on him from the heavens. Turning his head to the rock formation next to him, much to his surprise, he sees Ryan flashing him a toothy grin.

Blinking once or twice, he looks out to sea. This time when he sees Ryan’s award-winning smile in the shadowy reflections of the deep, he’s hit with a realization so concrete, so indisputable he wonders how he possibly couldn’t have known before. It all makes sense: losing his cool, his breath hitching, the prolonged eye contact, being distracted, seeing his face anywhere and everywhere there’s something to be seen. He is truly, insanely, deeply, completely, foolishly, madly in love with Ryan Bergara, and there isn’t a single thing he can do about it.

“Oh shit,” he whispers to the stars like a silent prayer. “I am so fucked.”


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO: Ryan

“G’night Ry.” 

Ry? Shane has never called him Ry before. He likes it though; something about the casual intimacy makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. 

It’s 11:03 and they finished filming the postmortem about ten minutes ago. Ryan always likes to get the first wave of editing done right away. He has a fun time doing it actually. Dragging and dropping clips of this and that is an activity he finds somewhat cathartic. The team will come in tomorrow morning, so Ryan has a couple hours to do some little things. 

He sits there alone in the open office space, tinkering with the raw footage of their recently shot postmortem. 

CREEAAK!

Ryan jumps and lets out a minor squeal of shock and terror. His mind takes no time flashing to all the possible causes of that noise. Could it be a ghost? A spirit? A demon? Something more sinister that has followed them home from their travels of various haunted places? His heart begins to thump quicker and quicker, eyes nervously scanning the office. Nothing’s there, nothing out of the ordinary. He shakes his head, deciding to forget about it. 

Returning his gaze to the screen, his eyes fall on Shane. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Shane is telling him that it was nothing and he should stop being stupid. Even with the imagined biting sarcasm, he finds odd comfort in Shane’s “reassurances.” They make him feel safe for some reason. It’s as if the pure cynicism of Shane’s presence is enough to make every ghost, demon or ghoul cease to exist, simply because they can’t with Shane in the vicinity. Shane’s too confident in their nonexistence for that to be possible. 

His eyes stay on the computer image of Shane. At this time in the video, he and Ryan are playfully arguing about an EVP that Ryan is sure will convince any sensible person that ghosts are indeed real. Shane seems intent to prove him otherwise. 

“Okay, okay, if it wasn’t the wind it was the currents. Those make weird noises all the time. And if not that it was a rock falling or the cave settling or even you moving. I would believe a million other things before I’d believe it was a ghost.”

His eyes flick over to his own computer image to notice something dismaying. As computer Shane speaks passionately, computer Ryan appears to be staring at him with massive puppy-dog eyes. As computer Shane continues, he becomes more impassioned, which only makes computer Ryan stare with more and more of an intense longing. He doesn’t recall zoning out so heavily, but there he is on the screen right there. At least he snaps out of it in time to call Shane “insufferable.” 

Insufferable. That’s funny. That’s the last thing he thinks about Shane when it really comes down to it. He enjoys Shane’s presence, his humor, his sarcasm, his laugh, his gentle smile always framed by stubble, everything about him really. Sometimes he is insufferable, for example when he is so adamant in his own beliefs that he discounts rational evidence from an opposing viewpoint. And that’s okay, because suffering through the insufferability is made more than worth it when Shane Madej is in your company. His quick wittiness, his bright laugh, his surprisingly vast array of different character voices, his always tousled hair, his strong, muscular chest, his ridiculously long tail (some have even said he is 80% tail), the way he looks at Ryan like there’s no one else in the world he’d rather be spending time with, all of these things make him so incredibly worth it. 

Sighing, he pauses the video right where Shane is mid-laugh. Ryan’s eyes trace his face carefully and scan in every inch of expression, drinking it in with a sudden thirst that wasn’t there before. His excited eyes travel across his bare chest and abdomen, following his rippling arms to his soft but large, capable hands that rested palms-down on the desk. Ryan wonders what Shane could do with those hands had he the opportunity. They could probably turn him inside out without breaking a sweat. 

You’d like that wouldn’t you?

There it is again, the ever-present voice of Shane in the back of his mind (You could say he was going inSHANE). He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, repositioning his tail. Would he like it? Oh god. Oh no. No no no no. Shane’s mid laugh eyes bore into him like two beady little drills, seeming to know what Ryan is thinking before he knows it himself. Is he... falling for Shane? 

Shane Madej? No way! No, it can’t be. That’s... impossible! He thinks to himself. 

You know the first step of grief is denial. The sarcastic tone is perfectly replicated in the version of Shane that Ryan has created for himself. 

“Aw can it, you,” Ryan mutters out loud to himself. 

That’s the second step right there, anger. 

“Insufferable. Even in my own damn head you’re insufferable.”

Let it out, it’s good for you. 

“I can’t be in love with... with you? I mean, you’re so... you,” Ryan’s quiet voice speaks confusedly. “There must be some mistake or something.”

The only mistake here is your belief in ghosts and shit.

“How could I do this to myself?”

And wow that’s step four already! You’re making excellent progress, Bergara. Who needs bargaining when you can go straight to depression?

“I need to get outta here,” he mutters as he shuts down the computer, still frozen on Shane in his crazy burst of laughter. 

Acceptance is for another day then. 

Ryan commutes by bus usually, so he sits down on the bus stop bench outside BuzzReef headquarters. All he wants to do is shut out the world, so he gets his earbuds and tunes out the whizzing of the cars and the other bright sounds of the city. The city is full of life, full of love. Love that wasn’t his.

Scrolling through his library, his thumb stops on Your Song by Elton John. He sighs and taps the triangular play button. While Elton serenades him with promises of a big house where they could live, Ryan’s mind wanders. He wonders what it would be like to love someone, what he would feel. He would probably want to swim up to the top of the BuzzReef HQ building and sing it to the world, just like Elton was in the song. He would want everyone to know how much he loved this person and how he’d do anything for them. He would want them to have only the best of everything, nothing less. But most of all, he would want his love to know how wonderful life is while they’re in the world. 

His mind begins drawing parallels from Shane to his (and Elton’s) conception love, first slowly, then faster and faster until everything seems to line up a little too well. Oh dear, this is not good, he thinks as his mind continues to whir with thoughts of Shane and love and Shane and love and Shane and love, over and over again until he feels a weight drop in his chest like an invisible ton of bricks. It hits the ground with an inaudible crash, Ryan’s eyes snapping open when it made contact. 

He imagines the weight shattering into a million pieces like a poorly placed wineglass on a rich person’s yacht, knocked overboard and crashing on the rocks they’re anchored near. Then he imagines the bits of broken glass sprouting fins and swimming ungracefully around as he creates a small vortex with his tail, dizzying the imaginary glass fish. They swim all around him, circling his bus bench before darting away into the night. 

A single glass fish stays behind and swims right up to his face, seeming to look him square in the eyes. It is jaded, sharp and crude, rough on the edges where the glass has been shattered. Then suddenly the glass begins to bubble, then smooth out, edges disappearing in favor of a scaly, intricate, seemingly living fish without imperfection or a single detail gone unnoticed. Ryan reaches out his hand to touch it, but as soon as his fingers brush the tip of the tail, it evaporates into the night. He can’t help but be reminded of Shane. The fish is beautiful, perfect even, but untouchable. If Ryan were to reach out for him, Shane would disappear faster than the fish evaporated into the cold city winds. 

Ryan sighs. His own imagination is more surprising to him than anything else, except for maybe Shane. Shane. The man he is head over tail-fin for. Shane, the skeptic, the scoffer, the living, breathing twig. Shane, the one who knows exactly how to get a rise out of him and takes every opportunity to do so. Shane, the man who is irrationally afraid of getting addicted to heroin from somebody coming up to him in an alley and sticking a needle in his arm. Shane, the one who makes Ryan’s insides do backflips whenever he sees him. Exhaling again, he surrenders to his imagination, allowing himself to be swept away by thoughts of Shane Madej, his Shane Madej. 

Acceptance, finally! Congrats Ryan, that’s all five stages of grief in the span of thirty minutes. That’s gotta be a world record or something. 

Ryan just shakes his head. 

“Insufferable,” he speaks aloud to no one in particular, voice lost in the chorus of cacophony that the city sings around him. “You are insufferable.”


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE: Shane

“Today on BuzzReef Unsolved Supernatural we’re covering the mysterious sunken ship that may or may not have belonged to pirate legend Brownbeard himself.”

“Pffft—bhahahha.”

Ryan looks at Shane exasperatedly. 

“That’s a stupid name and you know it, Ryan.”

Ryan sighs. 

“Hee hee. Brownbeard.”

“Are you five or something?”

“No, I just think Brownbeard is a dumb name. It’s naming yourself after your most prominent physical characteristic. Following that logic, your pirate name would be big forehead.”

“And then I guess your pirate name would be stupid face.”

“Now look who’s five.”

“Let’s go, Shane.”

Flashlights in hand, they swim together through a hole in the starboard hull. The ship is massive and decaying, with kelp and algae growing freely from bow to stern. From the port side, an even greater hole gapes with most of the wood stripped away, leaving behind only jagged edges and ribs that previously held together the hull. There is an old rickety looking table with a few barrels and empty chests, strewn between them rotted yellowed rope and a fishing net draped from a snag in the port side hole. Beer cans lay crumpled up on the sandy floor while obscene language and names painted the ship’s inner walls.

“This place reminds me of my mother in law. Just look at the walls. Jeff, Will, Zach, Eric, Jesse, Andy and Alex have all been here.” 

“Ryan, I hope to god you know in law jokes are the lowest of the low hanging fruit. They’re not even hanging, they’re rolling around on the ground rotting. I expected more from you man. And you’re not even married! Are you?”

“Not as far as you know...” Ryan says mysteriously. 

Shane hoped with all his heart that Ryan was not married. That would really throw a wrench in his plan to make Ryan fall in love with him. Even though he was sure Ryan was just teasing about the secret marriage, he still didn’t like his odds. Hell, Shane didn’t know if Ryan even swung that way. 

THUD. 

“Whawasthat?” Ryan jumps and knocks into Shane’s side. 

“Hey watch it,” Shane says sarcastically. 

“What was that sound?” There was panic in Ryan’s voice as he cowered behind Shane. 

“I don’t know, oceanic debris? Nothing to worry about for sure. Even if it is a ghost, it’s just our friend Brownbeard and we all know how much of a threat he is.” Shane snickers. “Oooh watch out, he’s a comin for ya! Brownbeard with his hat and his parrot and his beard!”

“Cut it out man, you’ll piss him off,” Ryan says worriedly. 

“Oh you mean cut this out?” Shane swims to the table and stands on it. He does a little dance, knocking a few beer cans off as he moves. They clang to the ground, Ryan cringing as each one hits.

“Shane...”

THUD. 

“Fuck!” Ryan exclaims. 

“Ooh I think the noise is coming from the captains quarters. We’d better investigate,” Shane says with excitement and sarcasm. “Now, are you done peeing your pants and can we go find Brownbeard now? I wanna see if he has any brewskis left,” he says, looking down at the empty beer cans strewn about near his tail fin. 

They make their way into the once magnificent captains quarters. It is just as dilapidated as the main hull, but there is a subtle grandeur about the place that Shane couldn’t really understand. It seems poetic almost, with its faded red curtains hanging limply from their half-attached rods and its rotted bureau with its barnacled-over mirror. The master bed commanded the most space, imposing and rusted and faded as the rest of the room it belonged to. It was one of the most strangely beautiful things Shane has ever seen. 

He sighs and looks at Ryan, caught up in the beauty of it all, but for only a second. He then swims over to the great bed in the middle of the chamber and lays down right in the middle, resting his arms on either side of the top of the headboard. 

“Shane, what the hell are you doing? Does this place not give you the creeps at all?”

A small creak comes from inside the main hull. Ryan squeaks and swims over to Shane’s side to be as far away from the noise as he possibly can. 

Shane notices silently. Has Ryan always been so much of a scardy-catfish? Well yes he has, but has he always wanted to be so close to Shane whenever he hears a noise? Probably not, Shane’s just viewing his life through the lens of a fantasy that will never come true. He should stop now if he wants to avoid getting hurt. “Or...” Shane thinks. He knocks the headboard with his fist, making a small thump. 

“Shit!” Ryan jumps and swims closer to Shane. “Shane, what was that?!?”

“Oh! That must be Brownbeard! He must see me lying in his bed all stretched out and want me desperately!” Shane says slowly and dramatically. “Come get it, Beardie! I’m yours for the taking!” Ryan looks away uncomfortably. Shane doesn’t notice Ryan’s large forehead turn beet red. 

There is complete silence for a few seconds as they wait in anticipation. 

“Ah well, I understand. I’m not offended, it’s fine...” Shane trails off. Suddenly an idea forms. “Oh but wait! Why settle for one fine specimen... when you could have two?!” 

On the word “two,” Shane hoists Ryan up by the waist and throws him gently over his head onto the other side of the bed. 

“Hey, cut it out!” Ryan laughs as he shoves Shane by the shoulders. 

“He wants you, Brownbeard. Just look at how excited he is!” Shane starts to tickle Ryan lightly and his laughter doubles. Attempting to gain the higher ground, Ryan wraps himself around Shane and rolls to the right until Ryan is pinning Shane down. That is until Shane found Ryan’s most ticklish spot on his left side right under the ribs. Ryan collapses in a fit of ferocious laughter which allows Shane to flip them back over to the left. Shane resumes his position on the top and looks down at Ryan in all his mid-laugh glory. 

Suddenly, they both stop. Their eyes lock. Shane is now acutely aware of every place Ryan is touching on his body. He feels a hot tingling sensation pass through his entire body, starting at the top of his head and working down to the tips of his tail fins. His hand rests on the side of Ryan’s ribs, right at his most ticklish spot. Ryan looks up at him confusedly, not sure what just happened. Neither is Shane. 

“Oh fuck, what have you gotten yourself into this time, Madej?” Shane thinks to himself. 

“Ahem.” Shane clears his throat loudly and swims out of the bed. “I guess Brownbeard wasn’t interested after all huh,” Shane says awkwardly. Ryan doesn’t move. Suddenly, he bursts out in laughter. 

“BWAHAHAHAHHAH,” Ryan laughs hysterically. 

“Hahahhahah,” Shane nervously giggles along. 

“Can you believe we just—HAHAHHA,” Ryan doubles over from laughter. 

“Yea... That’d be—“

“That’d be so weird!!! HAHAHAHAHHAH.” Ryan’s laughs sound increasingly wheezier the longer he goes. 

“Yea you’re right hahah,” Shane says agreeably but also dejectedly. 

“Can you imagine? You and me? BWAHAHAHAHAHHAH. What even?” Ryan is still cracking himself up. 

“Haha yea,” Shane says. “What even.”


End file.
